


This Dance

by Heylittleyahtzee (HeyYahtzee)



Category: Carmilla (Web Series)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-30
Updated: 2017-08-30
Packaged: 2018-12-21 16:25:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11948085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeyYahtzee/pseuds/Heylittleyahtzee
Summary: Laura takes the night off to go to a masquerade ball with her room mate Betty, only to be literally knocked off her feet and into the arms of a gorgeous woman named Carmilla





	This Dance

She was supposed to be studying.

“You ARE studying,” her infallible roommate Betty yelled over the teeth-rattling bass line “You’re studying the deranged mating habits of human post-adolescents when introduced to a condensed alcoholic substance.”

A kid wearing a toga, darth vader mask, and princess Jasmine jelly heels slid down the banister into the living room mosh pit. Betty had called it a “blackout masquerade.” Heavy, black curtains lined the walls to block out any hint of the outside world while every other surface was bedazzled in technicolor strobe lights. The sea of bodies pulsed in the neon twilight, the yells and cheers of the masked student body mixing with the music like the anthem to bad decisions. 

A Condensed Alcoholic Substance that was going to get most of them sent to the hospital, Laura thought. 

“Jungle Juice,” she said instead, wrapping her arms around herself. Her fingernails caught on the soft cardigan she was wearing over Betty’s blue sundress. All of hers had been too “homeschool”.

“Or?” Betty prompted, adjusting the glittering jester mask tied over the top half of her face. Laura’s mask was the only one she could find on such short notice, a black cat from halloweens past. 

“Jesus Pot.”

“And the rule is?”

“If you have to serve it to yourself out of a trashcan on the counter, then you should know there’s a one cup limit,” Laura repeated verbatim. 

Betty grinned and put her hands on Laura’s shoulders “See! You’re learning things already!”

Laura sighed, “Are you sure about this?”

Betty laughed and ruffled her hair, “It’s just your first big party. Half the point is to fuck it up, okay? Just don’t accept drinks from strangers and don’t leave your panties anywhere suspicious. Oh, and no taking your mask off!”

Laura raised an eyebrow at her. 

“You’ll be fine. On the count of three.”

Laura takes a deep breath and steels herself. The goal: reach the kitchen on the other side of the room with all limbs intact. 

“One. Two. THREE.”

With a primal yell, Betty and Laura launched themselves into the madness. They were separated immediately by a pair of Steampunk Mario’s fighting on the floor. Betty dodged a Princess Peach dancing in nothing but a bra, pantaloons, and a hoop skirt. Laura ducked under the flailing arms of the Cabbage Guy. They both swerved to avoid being crushed by the Michelin Man a la Ghostbusters (Two dudes. One costume. Go figure.) and were just about to round the corner into the dining room when a full fledged Blue Eyes White Dragon burst out of the archway.

Betty shrieked and grabbed hold of the nearest gladiator, hauling herself to a stop.

Laura was not so lucky.

The dragon’s wings were made of paper mache attached to the dude’s arms, and as he swung to the right, the edge of the wing swept around and hit her full force in the chest. Laura had taken enough arts and crafts to know he had papermached over a thick, wire frame. The air left her lungs in a strangled yelp and she sailed backwards into the chaos.

It’s a good thing I didn’t study for that test, she thought as she plunged toward the ground, I’m never going to even take it.

And then something warm and firm dipped behind her back and something taut and slightly pinched closed around her wrist and her whole body jolted as it was suspended in mid-air. Laura turned her head, the flashing lights and dancers like a kaliedescopic snowstorm around her until…

A young woman stood over her. The woman’s lips were pursed and her eyes were narrowed, framed by a black velvet mask with a long beak, like a smaller version of the masks worn by plague doctors during the 1300s.

Only, y’know, nine hundred times more attractive than that.

Dying is really weird, Laura thought as she was gently returned to a standing position. 

“You’re not dead, cupcake,” the woman said. Her hand floated just to the side of Laura’s elbow, as if she wasn’t totally confident Laura wouldn’t topple over again. It took every ounce of Laura’s self control to not wobble in that direction, to feel that touch again as she stares into dark, scrutinizing eyes. Laura’s cheeks were bright red with shock and embarrassment. She tried to take a breath to steady herself but instead found herself coughing so violently she almost keeled over anyway.

Fuck.

“I’ll say,” Betty snorted, hovering over the woman’s shoulder. Laura squinted at them. They looked like they were on the other side of a fishbowl and Laura was under the water, murky and muted. 

The woman looked at Betty, “First party?”

Betty nodded, “Pretty cute for a duckling, right?”

Laura frowned. Duckling? Really?

The woman’s calm demeanor evaporated into sharp, cold malice. Laura shivered. It was like someone had dumped cold water all over them. The woman glared at Betty and shook her head, dropping her hand from Laura’s side. 

“Oh fuck you, Carmilla, it’s a joke!” Betty scoffed. Laura looked between them. Had she missed something?

“Whatever. Bring a leash next time.”

Laura crossed her arms over her aching chest, “You guys know I can hear everything you’re saying right? And I can take care of myself, thank you!”

Carmilla raises an eyebrow at her, “Well, in that case.”

As quickly as she appeared, Carmilla melted into the crowd. Laura stared at the spot she’d vacated, emotions mixing in her stomach until she felt sick. In addition to her wounded pride, she didn’t exactly like Carmilla or Betty’s implications that she was some naive kid. On top of that she felt snubbed. What kind of person saves someone and then immediately insults them?

And then there was that fact that even dressed as a plague doctor, Carmilla was probably the prettiest person she had ever seen.

“Don’t worry about her. She’s always like that,” Betty sighed.

“Do you know her?” Laura asked. She should’ve just let it go, but she couldn’t stop turning the memory over and over in her head.

“Everybody knows her, Hollis. She’s the university’s dark mystery girl.”

“Uh, okay. But what does that mean?”

Betty squints at Laura, “Oh no. Don’t do that. She’s trouble, Hollis. Just stay away from her.”

“I was just asking!”

“Fine. You asked. Now for juice!”

Laura sighed and followed Betty towards the kitchen. Betty was right. She’d come here to let loose and have some fun before midterms totally kicked her ass. She was not going to spend the whole night bent out of shape about some woman with a bad attitude and startlingly captivating eyes.

And she tried. Really, she did. She had half a cup of jungle juice, Betty taught her about jello shots, and they danced until they were sweaty, sore, and bruised. Laura forgot about midterms. She felt like she’d crawled out of a vent onto a rooftop and now all the world was hers to enjoy. 

But her chest still hurt, and eventually she got tired. It was two in the morning and she had class at nine. Betty was off somewhere with a guy she knew from chem and the whole house was starting to reek of B.O and alcohol. Even standing against the wall with a glass of water, Laura could feel a headache setting in as the alcohol wore off. Without Betty and the dancing to distract her, she kept going back to that moment when she’d looked up and seen Carmilla for the first time, with the lights dancing behind her and her eyes searching Laura’s face. 

Laura massaged the spot on her wrist where Carmilla had gripped just a little too tight. She hadn’t been back in the living room. She could have gone home, for all Laura knows.

Adrenaline fading, Laura wandered out into the dark hallways of the house where the air was cooler and the darkness was steady. She followed one corridor for a while and then turned, rinse and repeat, until the party was a distant hum and she had no idea where she was. Here and there people were tucked into corners and doorways. Laura floated through, relaxing in calm relief from the energy of the party until she was practically content and the spot on her chest only throbbed as an afterthought.

At the back of the house was a narrow door that led to a derelict patio on the side of the house. Laura pushed through it, squinting in the light of the full moon. The paving underneath her feet was uneven, and everywhere she turned she saw cracked vases or overturned planters.

The patio extended around the corner of the house and that was where, in the shade of an Elm tree, Laura found Carmilla.

She was lounging on a stone bench, arms folded, one leg dangling off the end. Her hair spilled over the stone and into the grass, twisting and catching with every turn of her head. Her mask was crooked on her face, revealing one sharp cheekbone. Laura flushed and backed away slowly. She shouldn’t have come here. She was still a little tipsy, and the open night air was too big to hold in all the thoughts spilling over in her head.

“Leaving without so much as a hello?” Carmilla asked. She cracked one eye open and looked at Laura.

“Oh,” she said, “It’s you.”

“I just came out for some air,” Laura explained.

“The Zetas are opposed to open windows. They think the beer fumes will get out,” Carmilla chuckled.

Laura shifted from one foot to the other, “Are you waiting for someone?”

“Not particularly.”

“Right. It just seemed… Nevermind.”

“Are you?” Carmilla asked.

“No, I don’t, uh, really know anyone except for Betty and she’s still in there doing jello shots and I’m just… I mean I love parties! I’m a party girl! I definitely had fun but…” Laura shrugged and rubbed her chest.

“Are you drunk?”

“Wow, because I’m not perfectly coherent at 2 am I must be drunk? You’re kind of an ass.”

Carmilla snorted and sat up, “Eloquently stated, sweetheart.”

“I just don’t get it. Why did you save me? I mean, it feels like you don’t really care about any of this or anybody here. So, why did you catch me? Why didn’t you just let me fall?”

“Why are they mutually exclusive for you? Just cause I’m not a cuddly, enthusiastically positive co-ed all of a sudden I can’t do anything good?”

Laura bit her lip, “No of course not! I just… from what you said to Betty it sounded like you wished you hadn’t done it.”

“That wasn’t about you,” Carmilla scoffed, “That was about Betty. She likes to push this idiotic idea that I’m some kind of ladykiller. Every time she sees me she makes jokes about hot girls and shit like that’s all I could possibly care about.”

Carmilla shook her head and turned to look out at the yard, her jaw clenched. Even under the mask, Laura could tell the things people said behind her back bothered her. Sure, Laura was still sore about the leash comment, but Carmilla hadn’t exactly been wrong either. She obviously didn’t know what she was doing, no matter how much she wanted to think she wasn’t one of those innocent wide-eyed freshman with no idea how to handle college.

“I’m sorry,” Laura said, “You’re right. I judged you without knowing you and it sounds like Betty has, too. I’ll talk to her, okay?”

Carmilla looked back at her, her face softening, “Really? Why? It’s not like we’re friends.”

“So? I mean, you totally saved me from… I don’t know a broken hip maybe? Sprained wrist? At the very least a very bruised ass....” Laura stopped. She stood, and walked over to Carmilla and held out her hand.

“Thank you,” she said, “For saving me.”

Carmilla’s lips twitched upward, “You’re welcome. And I’m sorry I dragged you into my shit with Betty.”

They shook on it. Carmilla’s hand was firm and warm in Laura’s. For the longest moment neither of them let go, their eyes locking for more than a friendly glance. Laura looked away first, pulling her hand from Carmilla’s and taking a few steps in the opposite direction. What was she doing? They barely knew each other.

“So…” Laura said, crossing her arms, “What are you doing at a party like this? Doesn’t really seem like your kind of thing.”

Carmilla licked her lips, her face going slack as if she was somewhere else, somewhere at peace, “Do you ever feel like sometimes you just don’t want to exist for awhile?”

Laura let out a heavy sigh, her eyes tracing the lines of Carmilla’s figure in the dark, “Yeah, I think I do.”

“These parties… you can just blend right in. Dance for a while, come out here and look at the stars. Can’t do any of that at my apartment,” Carmilla explained with a grin.

“Do you like dancing? I didn’t really see you in there.”

This time Carmilla did smile. Laura felt her heart flutter in her chest and reached up to touch it absentmindedly.

“It’s nice to let loose once in awhile, I suppose. When I was a child my mother made me take ballroom dancing classes, but that’s a little different,” Carmilla says, “I remember loved the waltz. I haven’t danced one in years.”

There’s a breathlessness to her voice that bridges the gap between them and settles in Laura’s hips.

“I’ve always wanted to try it, but my parents couldn’t afford it,” she murmured. 

Carmilla smirked. She straightened out her mask, stretched, and popped up from the bench. Laura sucked in a huge breath of air as Carmilla came towards her. No way. This was not happening.

“The Waltz is pretty straight forward. I could show you,” Carmilla drawled, offering Laura her hand. Laura didn’t trust herself to speak. Instead she stepped forward, inserted her hand into Carmilla’s like they do in Disney movies, and then waited.

Carmilla placed Laura’s free hand on her shoulder and slipped her other arm around Laura’s waist. Laura shivered. This was almost exactly the way Carmilla had caught her when she fell.

If Carmilla sensed Laura’s emotional turmoil, she didn’t say. Instead she tightened her grip and looked down at Laura.

“All you have to do is follow me, alright cupcake?”

Laura nodded. All she could think about was pressing forward through the last few inches between them. Carmilla started moving, slowly at first, to the left, left, right, right, until Laura was keeping up with her and then she sped up just a little, until the steps were smooth and liquid and Laura thought that if a galaxy could feel she probably knew now what they felt like. 

Carmilla kept her eyes on Laura the entire time. Even on the uneven concrete she never tripped, and then after a few turns around the patio she slipped away and twirled Laura around. Laura giggled, and then laughed, which made Carmilla grin at her and pull her back in for another set of steps, but this time Laura pulled herself all the way into Carmilla’s body, tilted her chin and kissed her on the mouth. Carmilla stopped dancing, her fingers curling into Laura’s shirt. Their masks bumped together, their lips awkward and unsure. When they pulled away they held as still as possible, as if something fragile was teetering on the edge of a very tall table.

“I didn’t mean to do that,” Laura whispered, “I mean, I didn’t plan it. It just… I…”

“You’re a little bit of a mess aren’t you?” Carmilla asked. She dipped her head and kissed Laura again. This time it was smooth and full, if a little sloppy.

“These masks are really not practical,” Laura muttered when they separated, smiling so hard she felt like she was going to snap a nerve in half.

Carmilla rolled her eyes and reached for the ribbon behind Laura’s head.

“May I?” she asked.

“What if someone sees?” Laura said, “Isn’t it like, against the rules?”

“It’s a frat party. What are they gonna do? I want to know what you look like,” Carmilla said, “So I can find you later.”

Laura felt her heart swell in her chest and she bit her lip to keep from squealing. Instead she pushed Carmilla’s hands closer to the ribbon, “Screw the rules.”

Carmilla untied the ribbon and peeled the mask away from Laura’s face. Laura shook out her hair and watched Carmilla’s jaw go slack. Carmilla brushed her hands over Laura’s face with a soft sigh, then tilted her head and lifted Laura’s hands to her own mask. It fell away in a cascade of long black curls and pale skin. Laura ran her fingers over Carmilla’s cheeks and leaned in to kiss her again. 

“I already knew you were beautiful but this is ridiculous,” Carmilla said.

Laura laughed, “Ditto, Carm.”

They stayed on the patio until the cops showed up to break up the party, and then they snuck out the back gate to go to a little breakfast place Carmilla had been to nearby. 

Laura sent exactly one text to Betty so she wouldn’t worry.

Laura, 3:56 am: Yeah. I definitely like parties.


End file.
